Hero
by Cariel
Summary: During the war, there was so much bloodshed. Was this who Draco really was? Was this what he wanted to be? A killer? Why then did she call him a hero?


Broken glass crunched under his designer shoes as a gust of wind burst threw the open door behind him. His wand shook violently in his hand, but not out of fear. Blood soaked through his tattered oxford shirt from the gaping wound in his upper bicep. He was rapidly losing blood now as a result of a Cruciatus curse. He hadn't expected _them_ to use Unforgiveables. 

One. Two. Three steps. He would make it up these stairs if it took his last strength. Four more steps. Draco blinked to keep the staircase in focus. It would not be long now.

Cries echoed from just down the hallway to his left. Aunt Bella's laughter accompanied the agonized cries like a morbid hymn.

There were no options, he reminded himself. This had to be done. He had to kill them. Voldemort would kill his family; he would kill him, if he didn't do it. Draco wanted them dead. He wanted Voldemort dead too. Maybe it would be better if everyone was dead. Then there would be no more war, no more suffering, no more threats, no more fear…

Down the hallway, he trod, convincing himself of the inevitability of it all. Each laden footstep drew him closer to those waiting for him. He passed the room his aunt tortured Longbottom in. Her cackling laughter reverberated against the wooden floorboards. It sent chills down Draco's spine as he opened the door.

Behind the door, he did not find members of Dumbledore's Phoenix order. Nor did he find Weasleys or Mudbloods. In one corner of the room, there were only five children from school, four of whom were in their second or third year. In front of them stood Luna Lovegood, wand-less and hair wild, marking the chaos that brought them here. She was shielding them from Draco.

It was only when another child cried out that his attentions were temporarily ripped from Luna. An older Death Eater Draco didn't know personally was torturing a third-year Ravenclaw. Draco noticed the shattered bottle cap necklace and halved wand that belonged to Luna lying next to the Death Eater's feet. The man was too busy with his victim to even register Draco's presence.

As Luna's eyes met Draco's, he felt as though she had telepathic abilities. He could have sworn she wasn't a Legilimens.

_You're not a killer, Draco,_ he recalled her saying, though it felt like it was in another lifetime. It was close to what Dumbledore had said to him before he had a chance to kill him…before Snape intervened.

Draco didn't care about Longbottom, whose cries lessened in the next room. He didn't care about the students cowering behind Luna or the fact he himself probably wouldn't live past tonight. But Luna—Luna didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to be witness to such pain or to experience it.

As though moving in slow motion, he crossed the room, and extended a hand to her. With a curious look, Luna said nothing ,but looked back to the children before quickening her pace as Draco pulled her from the room.

Draco didn't know what possessed him in that moment. Was he trying to save his own skin? Did he think one pathetic attempt at chivalry would save him in the end? That perhaps even if he died at least his soul would be cleaner? Was he trying to be a hero? In all honesty, Draco was, for the first time in his life, thinking about another person, without the intention of using them. All he knew was that he had to get Luna to safety, whatever the cost.

Luna didn't question his actions and as they made their way outside, finding themselves alone, he was thankful for her silence. He wouldn't have known what to say to her if she asked.

It was after midnight now, which meant it would only grow lighter, leaving them with little time to get away with the cover of nightfall as their ally. Between two unfamiliar buildings, Draco stopped, panting and dizzy.

'You're bleeding,' Luna whispered.

'I know,' he replied, resting his wand-hand on the wall to steady himself and get his bearings. His other hand still grasped hers tightly. 'They'll be coming soon. They can track me because of this—' he said, referring to his Dark Mark. 'You need to get out of here—to safety—Do you know anyplace you can go?'

Luna shook her head. '_That_ was the last safehouse. Neville knew of another, but—'

'Remember it. You have to. Remember it and go there. Go now,' he commanded.

'How?' Luna began.

'Apparate. Use my wand,' Draco insisted, thrusting his wand into the palm of her hand.

'But what about you?' Luna queried.

'Just forget about me and go while you still can—before they find you.' Draco anxiety was evident in his tone.

'But you saved me, Draco,' Luna argued, trying to get him to take his wand back so they could escape together. 'I'm not going to just—'

'LEAVE!' Draco desperately shouted at her, but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted them. Grabbing his wand back, he stepped in front of Luna. There was a flash of light and then, there was no wondering.

* * *

A/N: If you like Draco/Luna, you just might have a penchant for Anakin/Dormé for some more bad-boy lovin'! Check out the stories on my bio page. 


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